The Wandering Jew — Volume 01 eBook

Dagobert, having turned the dog into the room, shut
the door after him, and advanced two steps on the
landing-place, which was sufficiently spacious to
hold several persons, and had in one corner a wooden
bench with a back to it. The burgomaster, as
he ascended the last stair, was surprised to see Dagobert
close the door of the chamber, as though he wished
to forbid his entrance. “Why do you shut
that door?” asked he in an abrupt tone.

“First, because two girls, whom I have the charge
of, are in bed in that room; secondly, because your
examination would alarm them,” replied Dagobert.
“Sit down upon this bench, Mr. Burgomaster, and
examine me here; it will not make any difference,
I should think.”

“And by what right,” asked the judge,
with a displeased air, “do you pretend to dictate
to me the place of your examination?”

“Oh, I have no such pretension, Mr. Burgomaster!”
said the soldier hastily, fearing above all things
to prejudice the judge against him: “only,
as the girls are in bed, and already much frightened,
it would be a proof of your good heart to examine
me where I am.”

“Humph!” said the magistrate, with ill-humor;
“a pretty state of things, truly!—­It
was much worth while to disturb me in the middle of
the night. But, come, so be it; I will examine
you here.” Then, turning to the landlord,
he added: “Put your lantern upon this bench,
and leave us.”

The innkeeper obeyed, and went down, followed by his
people, as dissatisfied as they were at being excluded
from the examination. The veteran was left alone
with the magistrate.

CHAPTER XIII.

Thejudgement.

The worthy burgomaster of Mockern wore a cloth cap,
and was enveloped in a cloak. He sat down heavily
on the bench. He was a corpulent man, about sixty,
with an arrogant, morose countenance; and he frequently
rubbed with his red, fat fist, eyes that were still
swollen and blood shot, from his having been suddenly
roused from sleep.

Dagobert stood bareheaded before him, with a submissive,
respectful air, holding his old foraging cap in his
hands, and trying to read in the sullen physiognomy
of his judge what chance there might be to interest
him in his favor—­that is, in favor of the
orphans.

In this critical juncture, the poor soldier summoned
to his aid all his presence of mind, reason, eloquence
and resolution. He, who had twenty times braved
death with the utmost coolness—­who, calm
and serene, because sincere and tried, had never quailed
before the eagle-glance of the Emperor, his hero and
idol—­now felt himself disconcerted and
trembling before the ill-humored face of a village
burgomaster. Even so, a few hours before, he
had submitted, impassive and resigned, to the insults
of the Prophet—­that he might not compromise
the sacred mission with which a dying mother had entrusted
him—­thus showing to what a height of heroic
abnegation it is possible for a simple and honest heart
to attain.